


Coincidence

by OrphanText



Category: Magic Kaito
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 02:11:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8268790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphanText/pseuds/OrphanText
Summary: Hakuba has his birthday over the break. KID's the last person he's expecting to spend it with.They do not go on a date.





	

**Author's Note:**

> *Jack belongs to Hopie, and he's absolutely lovely.
> 
> tfw you finish a fic and only remember it exists a month later. I tried to make it cute.
> 
> Unbetaed. This was supposed to be Hakuba's birthday fic except I forgot all about it so.

He is still telling himself that it is purely coincidence, simply chance when barely twenty steps away from where he is, Kuroba stops, pulls out his phone, and dials a number, one foot tapping away impatiently. 

Correspondingly, his own phone vibrates in his pocket (unknown number), and, mouth dry, a buzzing numbness spreading in his veins (in his head), he hits answer.

“Hello? Hakuba speaking.”

(Maybe it’s just coincidence.)

“ _ How hard can it be to find one snooty five feet eleven blond detective in this crowd? _ ” The voice, while the timbre is similar, isn’t Kuroba. It sounds smoother, lower, just - different, if he knows how to listen, and he has done a lot of listening lately. “ _ Why does it have to be on a Saturday? Wave, won’t you? I’m by exit 23, but I can’t see you. _ ”

“I don’t control the calendar days, unfortunately.” This is probably what an out-of-body experience feels like, and Saguru is surprised at how steady and even his voice still is. Kuroba turns, and he lifts a hand briefly in greeting, dropping it back down to his side when recognition lights in Kuroba’s eyes and he grins. The call cuts off, and then all too soon, Kuroba is standing before him, with the familiar violet eyes and quirk to his mouth that spells mischief. God, even the height is the same.

“Speechless?” Kuroba steps close, Saguru leaning back instinctively, catching the faint scent of chocolate and mint from his hair. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I - “ He’d been expecting the unexpected, but just not this. “I didn’t think that you were actually going to show.”

“On your birthday?” KID quirks an eyebrow at him, Saguru looking away as he flushes hot to the tips of his ears. “That would be rude, not to mention mean, and I don’t have a habit of skipping out on something that I’ve been so graciously invited to. Never have, actually.”

“I suppose not, but… Why him? Or are you actually - ?” Saguru casts him a dubious once over, KID grinning as he gives him a slow turn on the spot. “Is this a - confession? Of sorts?”

“Cease the thought. You seemed to like him plenty, and so I thought, why not treat you a little on your birthday? Come on, we’ll talk while we’re walking, and then we can decide what to do with you.” 

KID’s hand is a hot brace around his wrist, and mutely, Saguru can only follow as he leads him out of the crowded station and down the street. The strong wash of sunlight over him makes it all the more surreal, bright lighting burning away the doubts that he had lurking in his head, and he finds that he cannot stop staring at KID (can hardly begin to disassociate Kuroba from  _ him _ ).

“So.” Saguru nearly walks into him when KID stops abruptly by a tree. “Why me?”

“Why you?” Saguru repeats dumbly, blinking when KID turns to regard him seriously. “What do you mean?”

“Out of everyone that you can pick, why me of all people?” KID lets go of him, and where KID had touched him, his skin burns cold. Disconcerted, he rubs at it. “I’m only asking because I’m curious. I’m a hard man to surprise, but here you’ve got me. Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but this is still quite surprising.”

The question is met with an awkward silence from Saguru. KID tips his head to the side. He waits, patiently, and Saguru is strongly reminded of the long, cold nights where KID keeps him company, perched on his window like a giant, oversized parakeet, their conversation trickling through the hours until Saguru falls asleep, then the next thing he knows it’s morning.

“There isn’t anyone else that I can ask,” Saguru says at last, looking away. “Or anyone else that I feel as comfortable around with. But I’m glad that you at the very least do enjoy my company.” He smiles, a little ruefully, plaintively, barely there and gone. “I wouldn’t have wanted for you to agree simply because it’s my birthday, or, well.”  _ Or that you pitied me _ , he thinks, but doesn’t say.

“Maybe that’s what you think, but I think there are lots of people whom you can ask who will be perfectly happy to spend the day with you. You’re a little proud, yes, but I think that within reason, those can be admirable traits as well. You’re still young, aren’t you? You have lots of time to figure it out.” KID takes his hand again, grins, and doesn’t give Saguru a choice as he tugs him down the traffic crossing into the bustling district. “Now. Less of that. What do you like to do on your birthday? Or do I have to do all the work on top of showing up, too?”

“You can’t be much older than I am, are you? Judging from the elasticity of your skin and your voice.” Saguru laughs, allowing him to take the lead as KID tangles their fingers together, walks just that half step too close to him and Saguru has to remind himself that this isn’t a date with Kuroba, and that the real article himself is likely enjoying himself somewhere else in Tokyo with his childhood friend, which reminds him - “Is there an actual possibility of running into Kuroba? The actual Kuroba? While I am sure that he will be terribly excited to meet his idol, this will be an awkward situation to have to explain to him as to why you’re borrowing his face.”

“I’m sure he will only be flattered.” KID winks, Saguru smiling reluctantly in the face of his unwavering optimism. “Don’t worry. If it does happen, leave it to me. So what do you usually do on your birthdays, in England?”

“Nothing fancy, really.” Saguru tries to remember the handful of times where he didn’t actually spend half of his birthday stuck in the station filling out paperwork, returning home wrung out and exhausted with the taste of subpar coffee in his mouth. “Mostly work, but if there isn’t any, I would spend it with friends and such. The usual for most people, I suppose.”

KID lets out a low whistle, and he looks oddly impressed. “I know that you’re obsessed with contributing what little you can to righting the world, but I had no  _ idea _ . That decides it then. We’re going to give you a proper treat today, and the only times that you should use your brain is if you’re thinking complimentary things about me. Deal?”

“No offence, but I don’t think letting a thief treat me on my birthday is really a good idea. And perhaps I’ve given you the wrong impression by not providing you with the full picture, but murderers tend not to take holidays just because it’s somebody’s birthday out there. Besides, it wasn’t all work and no play. I’d be incredibly boring, otherwise.”

“Don’t be rude, the money’s clean. Do you know me to be someone to keep things that don’t belong to me?” KID puffs out his cheeks, and then slaps Saguru on the back so hard he yelps. “So  _ rude _ . It’s honest, alright? I’m - quite offended, actually. Wow. That’s new.”

He’s still smiling, but there’s a coil of tension that wasn’t there before around his shoulders, and Saguru reaches out awkwardly to pat him. “My apologies. I meant it as a joke, and not as a smear against your, uhm, character.”

“It’s fine.” KID shrugs, though Saguru can see that it doesn’t, really. He gives himself a shake, dislodges Saguru’s hand in the process, and smiles just as flawlessly as ever by the time he looks up, the irritation that Saguru had glimpsed briefly already smoothed away as though it had never existed. “Stings, but I wouldn’t be dying from it. Worst things have been said about me, anyway. How do you feel about lunch, Detective?”

Saguru agrees that lunch sounds amenable, and KID’s phone makes an appearance again. He links their arms together as they make their way down the streets following the instructions on the screen, pulling Saguru flush against him, Saguru coughing to distract himself, trying to guess where KID is going to bring him. For someone whom Saguru mentally associates with the cold glitter of stones and the wild rush of the wind, KID is surprisingly  _ warm _ . “You need the GPS for where we are going?”

“It’s my first time going there, actually. I’ve been recommended the place by a colleague, but the reviews seem pretty decent.” KID bends his head, dark hair just brushing against Saguru’s shoulder, and he’s most definitely not thinking about how comfortably he would fit against him if he were just to put an arm around him and tug. While most of their animosity in regards to each other has long worn out, sanded smooth by their encounters, their current relationship with each other can only be loosely termed as friends. It had been embarrassing enough for KID to discover his irredeemable crush on Kuroba, and if he were to act any sort of untoward towards him while he  _ looks _ like Kuroba, he would never hear the end of it.

(Not that KID wasn’t attractive or charming in his own way, but Saguru has been doing pretty well on denying his budding attraction to him, and has no intentions of ruining that now.

KID would probably just find it rude, either way.)

As per the instructions of Google Map, they arrive at a busy street near the central area, pubs and restaurants squeezed along the stretch of it. It isn’t long before KID makes a sort of appraising sound in his throat, and Saguru finds himself standing before a chippy shop squeezed in between one that does crepes and another that does sandwiches. 

“A British favourite, or so I’m told,” KID says, already joining the end of the queue as he cranes his neck for the menu. “I hope I’m not being too stereotypical.” He squints, brows furrowing. “What are pickled eggs?”

“Hard-boiled eggs pickled in vinegar. They’re not so bad, but you might find them unsettling. Depending on how long they’ve spent brining, they may be a little… rubbery.” He had had it the once in London, and had never personally developed a liking for it. Jack claims that he likes them, but he might only be saying so just to watch him cringe.

“Horrid, you mean.” KID gives him a sunny grin, Saguru feeling an odd pang in his chest at the sight. “I’m definitely giving it a try.”

“Don’t let me stop you, but don’t say that I didn’t warn you either.” Amused, Saguru turns back to the shop. In spite of the overly loud signboard and British flags bristling everywhere, the place looks promising. “Are they serving cod or haddock?”

“Is there a difference?” KID looks baffled, and Saguru smothers his laughter behind one hand unsuccessfully, drawing an irritated look from him. “Fish is fish, isn’t it? It’s just protein.”

“Only if you have to look at it that way. Don’t worry, the fish is only secondary to the batter. I’m just being picky, but as long as you enjoy the food, it doesn’t matter.” 

They’re served quickly, their food given to them in a cardboard box and wrapped in grease paper, Saguru going to town with the salt and vinegar while KID pays for it. There’s a proper batter on the fish instead of the poor substitution of breadcrumbs that he is usually served in restaurants, and the chips are properly chipped instead of the disgraceful wedges that he tends to find ruining his meal. Whatever expression he is wearing, it makes KID laugh, the sound bell bright and drawing the attention of a couple of girls still in the queue, KID chucking him under the chin.

“Careful, you’ll burn your tongue,” KID advises, tutting when he takes a huge bite and burns his tongue anyway. “Good?”

It’s not as good as what he had the UK, but it’s close. Saguru nods, taking another bite until KID catches him by the wrist, urging him to slow down, something very close to fondness in his eyes that Saguru doesn’t dare peer too closely at (doesn’t dare dissect lest he hope). 

It’s greasy, eating dirty standing by the streets, and it reminds him of London, splitting a packet of fish and chips with Jack while huddling under inadequate shelter from the weather, hot fragrant steam filtering in through the cold scent of rain. He’s never considered himself homesick, not when he can easily take a flight back to London if he as much as breathes a word about it towards Baaya, but it’s still surprising how much he misses it. There’s the old house in Westminster, the rickety desk that he had picked out of some secondhand shop and insisted on having it brought home, the long distance calls with his father, his friends who were always eager to be a ‘bad influence’ on him and who dragged him out of his house any opportunity they’re given.

(Wonders, if they’re still in London, or if they had left similarly to pursue their education overseas. No one’s left yet for a thief, though, and they all say like to reassure him he’s the first to create the record.)

“Mushy… peas.” KID wrinkles his nose, and lifts a chip with the peas on it, taking a small, tentative bite. “Oh.”

“Good?” It’s cute, watching KID try new things for the first time, the tentative expression on his face quickly melting into one of delight.

“Delicious,” KID confirms, cramming the rest of the chip into his mouth quickly. “There’s butter. Mint, I think. I was imagining baby food, actually, so - this is really lovely.” 

“In our household - back when I was in London - we used to have fish and chips every other Friday.” Saguru smiles down at his food, aware of the way KID’s keeping his attention on him even while he’s chomping away. “It was funny because we lived quite a good distance away from the chippy that my mother likes, so we would have to send out a driver. It gave the cook a break, even though she would complain that she can make a better batch than what we brought home, but fish and chips are sort of meaningless if you eat it properly off a plate. Father didn’t like it, but he cares about mother more than he does about his own opinion, so he would eat it, and quietly sneak himself a sandwich later when he thinks mother’s sleeping. She can always tell, of course. There’s hardly anything anyone can hide from her in the house.”

“A formidable woman.” KID holds a chip up to his lips, and Saguru obliges him by eating half of it. “Would you say that you’ve taken more after her, or your father?”

“Both, but - not as much as they would have preferred for me to be, I think. I do admit that my love of mysteries and puzzles I have inherited from my mother. She was the one who guided me through all of my junior detective work. She loves intrigue, riddles, but has no stomach for - well, I think she would love you, actually.”

“Lots of people do,” KID winks flirtatiously at him, the gesture sitting out of place on Kuroba’s face. “I would love to meet her, too. Then again, I don’t think I would be leaving for London anytime soon.”

“No? If you did, I could show you around a little. Introduce you to more British food, for one. Maybe you will like it.”

“Careful there,” KID taps him on the nose lightly with a finger, smirking, Saguru going cross-eyed briefly. “We still aren’t friends.”

“We aren’t?” Saguru feigns surprise, doesn’t let KID look away and then is indeed surprised when KID turns pink. “But you’re here, aren’t you? Who would do that, if not a friend?”

“Uh.  _ Maybe _ , but you know, uh.” KID clears his throat, looking decidedly uncomfortable and leaning away until Saguru finds the bit of mercy in himself to look away. “Maybe I’m just nice?”

“Please.” Saguru’s smile is all teeth, confident that he has him. “Give us some credit. You don’t care about being nice. Is it really so bad? Us being friends? I’m not asking for more, like your identity, or - just as we are now, is it really so bad?”

“That’s a dirty, horrible question and you know it.” KID grumbles, looking everywhere but at him. “Leave me in peace to appreciate my pickled egg, will you?”

“If you ever do visit the UK, my offer still stands.” He watches as KID gives the egg a dubious sniff, KID scrunching his face up once he’s taken a large bite out of it. “Told you.”

“Gross,” says KID, grimacing as he swallows, but doesn’t leave a single crumb behind him.

::

It’s surprisingly easy, being with KID. There’s no pressure to fit any of the roles he usually has prepared for work or school, and KID himself is unexpectedly chatty, filling up whatever silence there is all by himself. 

“You’re really not quite what I’ve been expecting,” Saguru says at last, right after KID has bought a pair of takoyaki print socks as well as a pair of non prescription spectacles, clipping the tag off with a pair of nail clippers and sliding them on immediately, checking his own reflection in the mirror with a grin. 

“Really,” KID says, and Saguru will be damned if Kuroba doesn’t look attractive in spectacles. Thank God for his lookalikes. “And what have you been expecting?” He tugs on a lock of hair over his forehead, then turns abruptly to Saguru. “How do I look?”

“Uh.” Saguru blinks, momentarily taken aback. “Good? I mean. Handsome. If you happen to look anything like Kuroba, that is. I don’t mean to doubt that you’re possibly good looking yourself, but he’s quite charming, I’m sure you will agree.”

“You think he’s charming?” KID’s eyebrows go up, and Saguru flushes. “Interesting. What else do you want to see him wear? A bowtie? Bunny ears? Lace?” Leans in, Saguru’s heart stuttering out a beat in his chest at the puff of hot air against his ear. “A dress and something underneath to match, maybe?”

“That’s inappropriate.” The words come out rushed, Saguru’s throat tight, but KID only presses closer, smiling like a cat with it’s paw in a bowlful of cream. “I shouldn’t - “

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I can keep your secrets for you, Saguru. Don’t you trust me?” This close, KID smells like cinnamon and vanilla, and Saguru goes light-headed for a moment, dizzy just from the way KID says his name. “You can indulge yourself all you want and he would never know.”

“It’s wrong.” 

“A harmless little fantasy,” KID corrects, catching him by the chin, Saguru shivering. “It’s your birthday, after all.”

“Can’t.” It’s hard to take a step back away from KID and the temptation that he is offering him (mind still locked on the hazy dreams he’s had of Kaito, unguarded and soft with a smile curled up in his bed, sharing his space), but he does, and the space makes it easier for him to breathe. “Don’t tease me, KID. It would be - “

“Rude? Shameful? It’s not teasing if I follow through.” KID follows him step for step, uncaring that they’re in public, Saguru swallowing when his back hits the wall. “We all have our little fantasies. Tell me.”

“KID, please - “

He’s smiling, too close, and Saguru tries to think of something else, anything else - 

“Call me Kaito,” KID purrs.

Oh dear Lord have mercy on him.

He puts a hand on KID’s chest, KID smirking only to blink when Saguru pushes at him lightly, forcing him a step back away from him. “I can’t.”

“Why? Because I’m an imposter?” KID’s voice is uncharacteristically soft, and all Saguru can think of are the times he’s spent with Kuroba in the classroom, each trying to show the other up, the look Kuroba always has on his face when it means he’s completely done with him, the rare times when he would smile, ask after his work, him. “Because it’s me?”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m cheating.” The laugh that he dredges up sounds rough, brittle, and he stops quickly. There is no hiding his attraction both to Kuroba and to KID, but KID doesn’t know that, doesn’t know that he sees him even under the disguise of Kuroba, and he rather not let that sour their little relationship. No point to fixing what’s working, isn’t it? “It’s just - It’d be wrong. Not just to him, but to you too.”

“And you’re fine with just fantasizing about it?” KID cocks his head to the side, apparently genuinely curious, Saguru smiling despite himself, the tender spot in his chest aching with how much affection he has for him.

“Doesn’t hurt anyone. I can’t ask you to do something like that. This is honestly enough.” Saguru touches the rim of his spectacles lightly, watches KID trying to read him. “I would be happy even if you were to show up as someone else.”

“Where would the fun be?” KID sniffs, but he relents, and Saguru breathes. “Fine then. Come along. We have yet to find you a cake.”

“If I’m not going to call you Kaito, what can I call you? Other than KID.” Saguru detaches himself from the wall, and catches on to KID’s sleeve. “It’s awkward calling you KID when you aren’t in that ostentatious outfit.”

“Hmm. How about Kai? Like the sea.” KID reaches for his hand, and Saguru lets him have it. “I haven’t been to the sea in a while.”

“Perhaps you should, before the weather gets too cold for swimming.” There are still lots of things that Saguru doesn’t know about KID, dozens and hundreds of them that KID doesn’t tell him, but he’s more or less come to term with the fact that he will probably never find out, anyway. “Or for a picnic, if you don’t mind the sand too much.”

“I like diving, but the last time I did that I nearly died. So maybe not. Hey, there’s a place that does really good croquettes nearby, do you want to check that out?” Without waiting for an answer, KID pulls him along again. In that respect, he’s just like Kuroba, knocking people over and towing them along with his presence and charisma before anyone knows what they’ve been hit with. “It’s just around the corner, I think.”

“How can you be hungry again?” Saguru sighs, but he’s smiling as he follows, and KID looks just like Kuroba when he laughs.

::

“Daylight robbery.”

“Oops,” says KID, eyes comically wide with his hand still up the prize slot and grinning widely. “Indeed. You’ve caught me now. Whatever will you do with me?”

“I suppose now that I’ve caught you red-handed, I will have to arrest you.” Saguru leans against the side of the machine, watching KID fish handfuls of assorted pens and keychains out from the slot into the bag the staff member had kindly provided them with. “Scratch that. I will take your loot, and  _ then  _ arrest you.”

“Ooh, cunning.” The last of the keychain is stuck up the chute, and when KID tries to tug it free, it brings with it another cascade of toys. “Ah.” He curses. “That wasn’t my intention.”

Saguru doesn’t stop laughing until they are outside of the arcade, the bag full to the brim with the prizes that they’ve won collectively. KID is still faintly pink, and the glare that he tips in Saguru’s direction nearly sets him off again. KID had tried to return half of what he’s won, but the staff wouldn’t have it, firmly insisting that they keep it. They would have gone on to challenge the last claw machine in the lineup, but by then the staff were keeping such a close eye on them that it was frankly uncomfortable, and they had tumbled out of the store with Saguru in stitches. 

“Well, that makes me feel terrible now,” KID declares, jamming his hands into his pockets once more as they set down the streets. “I’m glad I was a source of entertainment for you.”

“You pretty much  _ robbed  _ them,” Saguru says, pulling out an edamame keychain from the bag and peeling off the safety tag. “I would be wary after that, too. I’ve honestly never won anything from the arcade before this, so this is a first. Sets the bar rather high, I think.”

“As long as you’re happy,” KID says, grumpy, but some of it eases when Saguru attaches the keychain to the strap of his bag. 

“A badge of honour for our winner,” Saguru says, and there’s a ghost of a smile in the corner of his mouth when he looks back up. “You have to tell me the secret to winning.”

“There’s no secret.” A small green bean pops out when KID gives the plastic pod a gentle squeeze. “Just luck, and a lot of practice. Mostly luck, actually. I don’t really visit arcades that much. Where to now, birthday boy?”

Just to take the piss, Saguru suggests another arcade, delighted when KID rolls his eyes. 

“Spare me,” he groans, but he’s smiling. 

The day goes by entirely too quickly for Saguru’s liking, and it leaves him with the odd feeling of having done lots, and yet nothing at all. In the horizon, the sun dips under, painting the clouds a hazy pink and purple, and he blinks when KID offers him a finger of lavender cream.

“Penny for your thoughts?” KID licks the cream off his hand when Saguru pushes his wrist away, dark brown hair windswept from having stayed out on the open air terrace of the viewing tower for too long. “That’s a serious expression that you’re wearing.”

“Just… thinking.” Saguru turns back to the view before them, watching the lights of Tokyo switch on gradually, manmade stars that are just as beautiful as the ones dotting the skies.

“About?”

“About you.” He doesn’t turn his head, but he can see KID watching him in the reflection of the glass, unblinking. “About who you are, what you really look like… “

He lifts his hands, then lets them fall back into his lap again, slumping. 

“Nothing of importance,” Saguru finishes lamely. 

KID doesn’t speak immediately, still cleaning the paper plate of cream that Saguru’s cake had left behind with his finger, but his eyes don’t leave Saguru’s for an instant. Oddly chastised, Saguru looks away.

There’s a quiet rustling of cloth as KID shifts, and when he sighs, the sound is tired and weary. 

“A ghost.” KID says, and it sounds hushed, a confession beneath the sound of the mingling crowd around them. “That’s what I am. You shouldn’t be too obsessed with me. It’s all good fun, but eventually, all of this will come to pass.”

“What doesn’t?” Saguru’s surprised at how fierce he sounds, and it clearly startles KID, the other’s hand twitching before he flattens it against his thigh. “That’s not an answer, KID.”

“Maybe I don’t have one for you.” 

In the reflection, KID is smiling, but his eyes are hollow and empty. 

“Sorry I asked,” Saguru says finally, guilty and apologetic. “I don’t mean to pry, but sometimes - “

“But sometimes your curious nature gets the better of you?” KID sounds neutral, and there’s an apology ready on Saguru’s lips when KID stills him with two fingers under his chin, leans in, and -

Saguru forgets how to breathe.

KID’s lips are soft, and Saguru might have squeaked when he tilts his head a little to deepen the kiss. Unexpected as it is, it’s not as romantic as how Saguru had imagined it going in his head (not that he usually imagines kissing KID, not if he can help it). It’s no less unwanted, however, and when KID does draw away, he makes a disappointed noise in his throat, KID laughing.

“Okay,” KID says, bright violet eyes twinkling, then Saguru’s being kissed again, a quick peck on his lips, more to the corner of his mouth than on where he wants it. “Better?”

In the quiet that follows, KID watches him with something akin to amusement while Saguru tries to get his mind working. When he gets his voice working again, he doesn’t dare look at him. 

“Was that from you, or from the disguise that you’re wearing?”

“Which do you want it to be?” 

You, Saguru wants to say, just as much as he wants to say both, but realistically, he knows that it’s impossible. KID laughs again, cryptic, and gets to his feet.

“Time to get you home,” KID says, and Saguru knows that he’s looking forward to this as much as he is by how even and neutral he sounds.

The train ride back is forgettable. They don’t say anything else to each other on the entire trip home, and while Saguru could have easily asked Baaya to pick him up from the station, knowing how much she worries when he’s out too late at night, he doesn’t, wanting just one more selfish second with KID alone while he is still genuine. KID walks him to the front gates of his house, and when he turns, smiles, he is already bleeding back into insincerity. Hand on the lock, Saguru pauses, and turns firmly back to him.

“Where’s my present?”

“My, is this how you ask people for things?” The smile KID cuts him is wide, sharp, Saguru already feeling the loss acutely. “Manners, Hakuba-tantei. You’ll horrify your elders.”

“It’s my birthday.”

“So it is.” KID shakes back his sleeve, makes a show of checking the watch on his wrist. “For another forty seconds more, I believe.”

It hurts, surprisingly. Saguru stares mutely at him before turning back to fumble with the locks. It feels a little too much like betrayal, a kind of hurt just like when he cut his nail too close to the quick, dull and harmless but nevertheless persistent. He knows why he feels this way, knows just as well why he shouldn’t, but he’s not ready to sort through the complicated tangle of emotions taking up all the space in his chest until he can’t breathe. 

“Hey.” KID reaches a hand out towards him, close enough for Saguru to feel the heat from him but not touching. Saguru doesn’t want to look, doesn’t know the kind of expression he’s wearing when he’s feeling like an egg, cracked to spill it’s liquid in transit, but KID waits patiently, and doesn’t speak again until he does.

“I’ll see you again soon,” KID says, and there’s the shadow of the teen Saguru had seen in him all day, a modicum of truth and a promise. “Thank you for today.”

And he’s gone.

There’s no smoke, no fanfare, and Saguru can barely comprehend how he did it. He doesn’t have the energy to, either way, and only stares at the empty space where KID previously stood. Shaking his head, he unlocks the gate, and slips back quietly into his house, putting on a smile for Baaya when she emerges from her room at the sound of his keys.

“I’m fine, Baaya,” he tells her, fending off her concern for him. “Just a little celebration that went a little too late - yes, I do have friends, Baaya. Have some faith in me.”

He sleeps well, but only moderately.

(Pretends, when he wakes, that he didn’t dream of the kiss.)

::

“Your birthday happened over break, didn’t it? Here, I got something for you. It’s a little late, but - “

Hakuba blinks, looking bewildered as his classmates crowd him the first thing in the morning, desk piling up with little gifts before he can so much as put down his bag. “Good morning - for me? I really wasn’t expecting - really?”

The girls titter amongst themselves, and somebody mentions something about a roster and a class relay system. Clearly lost, Hakuba smiles at them a little helplessly, and doesn’t notice the look Kaito slants him from behind his newspaper.

If asked, Kaito would have said something about visiting his relatives, or something else equally just as boring and as mundane. Nobody did, though, so he contents himself with watching, putting on an appropriate frown when Hakuba looks over at him.

He doesn’t think Hakuba’s caught on yet, the silly English detective. If he were thinking straight, he would have put two and two together that KID hadn’t been wearing any sort of masks or makeup when they kissed, but apparently he hadn’t (credits to yours truly for the kiss, really). Still. He did promise him that he would see him soon, and he isn't the kind of boy to go around breaking promises.

He never did specify how, or when, however.

Kaito’s sort of looking forwards to that.

**Author's Note:**

> Once I had pickled eggs and the grit from the fancy fireworks got into my food. I'm hotter about salt baked quail eggs or tea eggs than pickled eggs, though. Mushy peas are great.


End file.
